Felicity Stripped Bare

by Vanessa Jaye

  She turned away, angry. Not yet! She wasn’t ready for the pain of being…not here. Without him. They still had four days left to collect memories.

  She lived like a crazed woman for the next two days, at times desperately soaking up every nuance of sound, taste, touch, then at others, holding herself distant, only aware of the jabbing ache in her heart.

  When Saturday came, Daniel’s birthday, she surprised him with a framed reprint of a vintage advertising poster she’d spotted on one of their recent shopping trips.

  “It’s your favorite winery,” she pointed out anxiously, aware that he was used to getting much more expensive gifts.

  “You remembered.” There was an odd note in his voice.

  “I wanted to get you something special.” Felicity slipped from his arms. “Something you’d remember me by when I’m gone.”

  It went so quiet, you could hear the proverbial angelic chorus line, tap-dancing on the head of the infamously dropped pin.

  He cleared his throat. “Felicity, we have to talk.”

  “How about later?” She blew him off with a little smile. There was no way in hell she was going to have that “we need to talk” talk right this minute. “I have to shower and get ready for work.”

  Daniel tipped her chin up, holding her gaze. Somehow she kept the tears deep, deep inside. “Later,” he agreed.

  She nodded and escaped.

  Except, she didn’t escape. Because he insisted on driving her into work. For the entire ride she was quiet, the drag of returning to Tony’s muted under a heavy numbness that invaded her body and smothered her pain.

  The only part of her functioning was her brain. And it was fueled purely by fear. There was no way she could let Daniel see where she worked.

  Luckily, when it came time for specifics, she was able to choose a bistro several blocks away from The Uptown for him to drop her off.

  As he pulled up to the curb she reached for the lock.

  “Felicity.” He stopped her. “I know you probably don’t want to hear what I have to say—”

  “I really gotta go. We’ll talk later, okay?” Her voice was almost pleading as she climbed out of the truck. She slammed the door shut on any further discussion and walked hurriedly to the restaurant, did a quick spin around to wave him off, then disappeared inside.

  Daniel pulled out into traffic, driving on automatic. He slowed at the yellow lights, braked at all the red. Stayed in his lane and well within the speed limit. In no hurry to get back to his big, white, condo.

  Once upon a time his privacy had been sacred, now it meant loneliness without Felicity’s presence. Stifling silence without the crystal tinkle of her laughter. Boredom without the mysteries held in her gaze. Nights without her in his arms didn’t bear contemplating.

  He swore and flashed a glance at the rearview. A right was coming up fast and he swerved to take it, then cruised down the side street as he left the blare of car horns behind.

  Forget about later.

  The return trip uptown took twice as long, and, of course, it took another ten minutes to find a damn parking spot; but he finally made it back to the restaurant.

  Daniel looked around the dining room for Felicity, he just wanted to know when she had her break, he’d come back then and say his piece.

  A waiter approached him. “For one?”

  “Actually I’m looking for someone. Felicity.”

  The guy stared at him blankly.

  “A waitress. She works here.”

  A negative headshake met his statement.

  “I just dropped her off. Reddish brown hair, wavy, down to her shoulders?” Daniel went on to describe what she’d been wearing.

  Comprehension lit the server’s face. “Oh, you mean the dancer. She was only in here five minutes tops. Looked over a menu then changed her mind and left.”

  “Dancer?” A buzzing filled Daniel’s ears.

  “Stripper.” The guy was trying for sympathetic, but Daniel detected a hint of a smirk.

  “I don’t know what she told you, but this isn’t where she works. I’ve seen her around, though. After awhile, you get to know who lives or works in the area.” He shrugged. “Check at The Uptown—it’s two lights north. Maybe someone there can help you out.”

  Daniel unclenched his jaw enough to mutter, “Thanks.”

  Once he hit the pavement, he spied the flashing marquee up the street. With every step he took, the buzzing in his head got louder. He entered the club, squinting against the smoke and flashing lights, wincing at the painful throbbing at his temples that increased with the blaring music.

  His gaze skimmed over the too round breasts of the dancer on stage, his gut untwisting in relief that it wasn’t Felicity. Wasn’t her. The waiter had to be wrong. Yet Daniel didn’t leave, he move further into the room, scanning the other inhabitants.

  There was a guy, running to fat, behind the bar and a couple of guys nursing brews in front of it. Daniel made out several personal performances taking place in the back and froze. His eyes were burning, straining to see. His heart hammering so loud the music faded. At some point he realized Felicity wasn’t there. At the same time he realized, he didn’t want to know. He felt like he was falling apart, his head like it was about to go spinning off his body. Daniel turned to leave when the DJ announced the next dancer…

  Felicity had managed to evade Cheryl’s gentle probing. And thankfully the other girls seemed to sense her wish to be left alone. For her set, she asked the DJ to play the music loud—hard rock and gangster rap. She wanted to give vent to her pain and anger.

  Why bring Daniel into her life, and give her a taste of such complete happiness, when it couldn’t last?

  And where would she find the strength to continue working with him on design projects, when it was officially over between them?

  That was a stupid thing she did with the poster today. She should’ve gotten him a card or tie or some other impersonal gift. Something that didn’t signal so clearly she was getting sappy.

  She stormed onto the stage and for the first two songs never stopped with high kicks and sneers, hair flips and air punches.

  Then the last song came on.

  Time to face the music.

  Time to take it all off.

  Oh goody, here came an appreciative audience member from the back, probably turned on by the suppressed violence in her act. She dismissed him, but in the next second her gaze jerked back to his distinctive silhouette.

  Felicity’s movements became mechanical and broken as she squinted then blinked several times. She told herself it was a trick of the bright lights. It wasn’t. In a few steps, his harsh features telescoped into recognizable detail.

  Daniel.

  He walked right up to the stage, squeezing between tables and Felicity came to a standstill. The music faded, leaving only the raw thud of her heart punching against her ribs. Each punch left a bruise that was pummeled again and again.

  Her hands flew to her mouth, her bra fell away, and his gaze raked over her bared breasts. When he raised his eyes again, Felicity not only saw his revulsion, but that she deserved it. Blinded by scalding tears, she crossed her arms over her nakedness and scuttled backwards till her spine pressed against the cold mirrored wall. He jumped on stage, following her, and each breath she took became a gasping broken moan.

  Daniel grabbed her arms. He didn’t know whether to drag her against him, hide and protect her. Or shake her so hard it would rattle every goddamn tooth in her deceitful little head.

  Felicity stared up at him with eyes that were two dark pools of tarnished silver, and Daniel’s control cracked; so did his voice. “Why?”

  Her lips parted but no sound escaped them.

  “Is this the only thing you do here?” He tightened his grip. “Answer me.”

  She shook her head.

  For a brief moment pain flitted over Daniel’s face, then his eyes filled with loathing as he released her, practically flung her away from him. She stu
mbled as he called her a name that made her gasp, a quick intake of air that hit the back of her throat with enough pain to choke on.

  But not more pain than what he’d called her, dirtying every single kiss, every touch they’d ever shared. She crumpled, sliding to the ground.

  The music stopped abruptly; there was a sudden blur of movement just before a muscular arm swung around Daniel’s neck.

  “No!” Felicity screamed and tried to crawl to him, but Cheryl was there, blocking her way.

  “Come on, sugar, let’s get you out of here,” Cheryl urged, her voice barely discernable over the sounds of breaking glass and overturned furniture.

  Enraged male voices rose on a volley of curses, punctuated by panicky screams. Felicity cringed into a tight ball, rocking back and forth.

  Cheryl slipped an arm around her waist, softly crooning her ear. “Fil sweetie, get up. You can do it.”

  No she couldn’t.

  “He’s gone now, honey. Come on now, get up.”

  She knew he was gone. Why else this black, crushing, emptiness inside of her? The music was back on again, the DJ Keith joking over the mike. None of it penetrated her nightmare. Felicity made herself stand up and with Cheryl’s help, walked, rather than crawled, like she wanted to, off stage.

  “I don’t want no trouble,” a deep rumble grated in Daniel’s ear as his arm was twisted further behind his back. “I can’t have this kinda shit happening here. It’s no good for business.”

  Daniel found himself shoved forward. He caught his footing before he fell.

  “If you come in here again, I will make it the business of my fist to interfere with your face. Capisce?” The bartender used a thick beefy finger to stab the air. “Now beat it.”

  Daniel took one last look at the stage. She was gone.

  The outer door banged open against the wall and ricocheted back from the force of his push. He started down the block, kicked at a pile of garbage bags and then slammed his fist into a sapling. The slight pain was welcomed. He could focus on this pain. It was defined and contained. Not like the miasma of pain, anger and confusion writhing inside him.

  Driving by rote, Daniel somehow made it home without totaling his truck. A couple hours and beers later, and the bleeding edge of going-out-of-his-fucking-mind had been dulled. That’s what really hurt, understanding the true extent to which she shut him out. He wondered what else he didn’t know about her.

  With his feet braced up on the coffee table, he opened and closed his fist experimentally, studying the bruised knuckles.

  Had he even known the woman he’d fallen in love with?

  He could kick himself for being such an idiot, then in the next minute he was thanking his lucky stars that he’d kept his yap shut and not spilled his guts to her about how he felt.

  Man, she’d played him.

  Every fiber of his being recoiled from the memory of other men looking at Felicity. The lust that had been virtually palpable in the air. Daniel relived again the long minutes it had taken him to walk up to the stage, the pain and shame evident in Felicity’s expression when she’d recognized him. All he’d wanted to do was take her away, hide her from the leers—

  He expelled a humorless laugh. Yeah, like she hadn’t been loving every minute of her performance, taunting every man in the room with her body.

  And that taunting had included him. Despite his shock, he’d responded as if she’d been dancing for his eyes only. Even now he was semi-hard at the memory of those lush curves spilling from that outrageous outfit and the sweep of her hair tangled about her face as if she’d just been made love to. He scrubbed at his eyes, but the image on stage superimposed itself over the vision that had writhed in his arms last night.

  Is that the way she saw him? Just another guy, another Stuart, another fuck, another buck? Pain surged in his chest, but he knew what he’d seen.

  Yet every night she’d lain in his bed and made love to him—he laughed mirthlessly. Love. What the hell was that? Certainly not this feeling of being shredded alive from the inside out.

  The elevator doors opened.

  “Daniel?”

  He looked up at her, with her red, puffy eyes and lying mouth.

  “Can I explain?” she asked, slowly walking towards him.

  He answered with stony silence.

  She dropped her bag on the floor beside the nearest chair and sat. Nothing in his demeanor welcomed her to come closer. “I couldn’t tell you about working at The Uptown, because I knew how you’d react.” Her voice got lower and lower with every word she forced out.

  “Oh, you knew that, did you? You don’t know shit.”

  “No, you don’t know shit,” she spat out hoarsely. “You don’t know how I’ve lived, scraping and scrounging for every cent to pay the bills since I was sixteen.” Felicity fought for control, but she couldn’t stop. The words tumbled out, an eruption of all her pain, her years of being alone, and the stark hopelessness that faced her now.

  “It’s about survival, Daniel. I’ve worked every shit job you can think of just to have something to eat and to keep a roof over my head.” She saw him wince.

  “I didn’t always succeed. Tony’s is one of the best paying jobs I’ve ever had.”

  His mouth twisted into something ugly and the expression in his gaze made her skin shrink. “I don’t want to hear this,” he rasped.

  “Of course you don’t. You want to be justified in thinking I’m not good enough for you,” she said bitterly. “That’s why I never met your family till your mother walked in on us.”

  He sat up straighter. “That’s bull—”

  “I’m speaking. My turn. You don’t get to be the only one throwing around accusations.”

  “Not accusations. The truth, Felicity,” he yelled, his face flushed dark. “Do you even fucking know what that is?”

  “Look who’s talking. How can you point a finger at me when I didn’t even know you lived like this until the fire—”

  “Ah, yes, now we get to the point.” Daniel’s eyes were little chips of ice. “Regretting that you didn’t know how rich I was earlier so you could’ve gotten more money out of me?”

  She sprang up, trembling. “That’s not fair!”

  He spread his legs and shifted in his seat insultingly. “You can always give me a lap dance. Hell, I’ve been getting the goods for free, might as well start paying.”

  A heavy crushing weight squeezed all the air out of her lungs. That he of all people would reduce her to that.

  “St-stop.” She couldn’t speak, she was hiccupping instead of breathing, her nose clogged and eyes blurry with tears. “I did what I had to, don’t you see? I was only a waitress at Tony’s right up until you evicted me. The rent was so good there, I couldn’t afford to live by myself anywhere else unless I made more money.

  “But I’m not fit to do anything else, Daniel.” The painful admission was a raw whisper. She cleared her throat. “Nothing that pays as well. I had to dance.”

  He’d gone pale by the time she’d finish speaking. They stared at each other in silence. There was more to say, but where to start? And was he even interested? She silently begged him to understand but his face remained a mask. She’d lost. Him. It had been too good to be true.

  Finally she said, “This is my life, Daniel. This is me.”

  Another long silence stretched out.

  “Yeah, I see that. Now.” He sounded weary and his gaze held a wealth of sadness. “Remember when I said that I’d never lie to you?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. Her throat felt like a pincushion for pain.

  “And I asked the same from you?”

  Her nod was a series of staccato jerks.

  “You had another choice, Felicity. You could have told me truth. We could’ve worked—” He broke off and looked away, a muscle pulsing in his jaw. “All you’ve done is lie our entire time together. I can’t accept that. I can’t accept your life.”

  He stood and faced her. “I can’
t accept you.”

  Her capacity for pain had just been surpassed for the day. You hear that? Whichever little troll of fucked-upedness who was in charge of her life. Surpassed.

  Daniel grabbed the empty beer bottles on the table. “I’m going to hit the shower. We have about an hour to get out of here and meet my parents.”

  “You still expect me to go to dinner?” she asked, shocked.

  “What I expect doesn’t matter. My mother expects you there,” he said, walking over to the kitchen. “I think we can survive together for a few more hours.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose. What she really wanted to do was scream in frustration. She didn’t want to go. Did. Not. But Lise had been nothing but good to her. Supportive. A friend, and she was counting on Felicity for the pass-key. She had to go. Damn.

  “Felicity?” Daniel’s voice was much softer, her heart stuttered with faint hope.

  She looked up.

  “I’m sorry. For everything.” He left the room.

  He’d just said goodbye.

  Daniel’s hand rested lightly against her back as they went through the doors of the restaurant. The first time he’d touched her since he’d left The Uptown. She glanced at his profile, but he gave no indication he’d noticed her flinch.

  “Daniel!” An elegant man swept forward to greet them. The men exchanged quick pleasantries, before the maître’d led them into the dining room.

  “And now the celebrations can begin,” their host announced as he brought them up to the table.

  “Marcel, thank you.” Lise held out her hand, which he gallantly kissed.

  “Madam, the pleasure is all mine.” Then he turned to Felicity and captured her hand also, pressing his lips briefly to the back. “Enchanté, mademoiselle. Enjoy your visit with us.”

  Not a chance.

  Daniel pulled out a chair for her. He could give the Grim Reaper tips on decorum—that’s how warm his demeanor was.